


Games

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Carcassonne, F/M, Games, Gen, Lydia Martin for Supernatural President, M/M, Plotless, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: Pack game night should probably shouldn't be so predictable...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I think picking up long left linger fics and finishing them is starting to be a thing...

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the tile covered table before him, and the newly completely city. “How could you Lydia?”

The possibly-not-so-best-friend in question sniggered as she passed on the tile bag. “Please, you’re just jealous of my mad tile grabbing skills.” With efficient movements she tallied up Peter’s score, then returned meeple to him and Stiles.

Scott pulled and laid down another cloister. “It was a fair move Stiles.”

He sent yet another not-so-best-friend a light glare. “E tu Scott? Because there’s nothing fair about Lydia and Peter’s unholy ‘always winning Carcassonne’ alliance. Which I’m pretty sure is against the rules.”

Apparently everyone was unimpressed by his bringing up of the rules. “Maybe you shouldn’t always suggest we play it on game night then.” Kira finished with a sigh as she set down a field tile.

Clearly she didn’t know anything, because all the other games he had had even more ways to backstab than Carcassonne; he shuddered to think what the two of them would do in Catan, or Small World. He seriously needed to invest in new games.

“And really Stiles, break the rules?” Lydia seemed indifferent to Isaac adding a tile to a city they both had meeple in. “I’d never do anything so gauche.”

Stiles took the bag from Isaac and yanked a crossroads-with-lake tile and quickly surveyed the board. “Yes.” He did a little seat wiggle as he slotted the tile in, ending a stretch of road he’d road he’d started at the beginning of the game. “Boyah! Twenty-four points bee-atch, and that robber baron tile is mine!” He made ‘gimmie’ hands at Kira who huffed but handed it over. Warily Stiles passed the bag onto Peter. “Derek it’s almost your turn.” He half-shouted before returning his full attention to the game. “Also Lydia, I’m never voting for you if you ever run for any sort of office.”

“Never say never Stiles, especially since she knows where you sleep.” Peter had the audacity to sound far too amused as he set a field-road tile by one of his cloisters, setting a meeple on the road, then reached over and flicked him on the ear. “And you’re lucky the pups are deep sleepers.”

Stiles grimaced and rubbed his ear as Derek finally came back into the room—what was the point of having Derek be a buffer between Peter and Lydia’s conniving ways when he didn’t even stick around half the time?—and snatched the tile bag from his uncle. “You’re a horrible boyfriend, letting your family beat me up.”

Derek didn’t even glance at him as he set down a field tile. “You did deserve that one a little.” Everyone was against him tonight, it was awful. Stiles didn’t bother holding in his sigh when Derek wandered off again; if he knew it wouldn’t get him slammed up against a wall, not that he had anything against that, Stiles would totally call Derek a cat.

Lydia daintily reached in and pulled out one of those really bizarre city tiles. “But seriously Stiles, after dealing with those dragons human politics would be so boring, and it’s not like there are any supernatural offices I could run for.” She set the tile kitty-corner to Isaac’s in the city they shared so she could put another one of her meeple on it, giving her control of the city, then passed on the bag.

“We could invent one,” Peter took Derek’s spot and wrapped an arm around Lydia’s waist.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t dissuade him from his PDA. Scott made a face at both of them, he did it with Derek and Stiles sometimes too—Stiles had yet to figure out what the pattern was besides ‘so weird, kinda icky’—and pulled a road-field tile. With an annoyed sigh he set it down on one of Kira’s roads. “We’ve only got six tiles left.”

Kira got one of those foxy glint in her eyes that meant mischief. “I could totally see it, Lydia Hale, president of the supernatural world.” She pulled one of the half city-field tiles and slid it in next to another gaining a quick four points. “I’d totally vote for you.” The bag went on to Isaac.

“I don’t think we could get the whole world to vote for her, she’s not that persuasive.” From the way Peter was bristling he clearly didn't agree with Isaac’s opinion, but Lydia elbowed him in the side and he at least stopped flaring his eyes. “Four tiles.”

Stiles pulled another weird city tile, the four walls with a little field between all of them. There weren’t any real places he could put it that benefited him sadly, so he just set it next to one of Scott’s incomplete cities. “Bleh.” He set a meeple down next to the city Kira’d just finished as a last ditch farmer. He half-heartedly tossed the bag to Peter. “Derek, last turn.” Seriously, so much easier if he’d just stay at the table.

Peter finished off one of his cloisters and lifted the bag over his shoulder to offer to Derek while Lydia tallied up his new score, and surprise, surprise he’s in the lead. Derek set down a cloister.

Lydia made a quick road, earning herself some literally last minute points. Then they got down to the dirty business of getting final scores. As it always was their end map’s a strange sprawling mess.

In the end Lydia won, surprise, surprise, again; Stiles was pretty sure Peter always let her win because of reasons Stiles would rather not think about—see: so weird, kinda icky. With a sigh Stiles flopped onto Derek, “why does this always happen, it’s a freaking tragedy. Kira’s right we’re totally playing another game next week.”

Standing up Lydia began collecting tiles. “I vote for Shadows over Camelot, or Betrayal at House on the Hill.”

Wrinkling his nose Stiles stuck his tongue out at her. “You would, all the backstabbing none of the hard work.”

Scott wrinkled his nose, “those both just sound hard.”

“No, no, we should totally play either of those!” Kira’s mischief face was back. “Good versus evil. Peter versus everyone else, it’ll be awesome.”

Peter mock pouted. “And why do I have to be the bad guy? If any of you haven’t noticed I’ve settled down.”

Lydia sniggered. “It’s the goatee dear, makes you look like you came from one of those old melodramas. I think Stiles still thinks you might tie me to the railroad tracks one day and laugh evilly.”

Peter brightened. “Well that isn’t one we haven’t tried yet, maybe tonight?”

Ew, ew, ew, he did not need that mental image. And apparently he wasn’t the only one. Isaac and Scott both made faces. “Not in front of me,” Scott shuddered.

“Well of course not Scott, none of us are into voyeurism.”

Kira waggled her eyebrows. “I could be convinced.”

Scott looked at his fiancee aghast.

With a roll of her eyes Lydia stood. “Sorry Kira, no voyeurism for you.” She yawned. “And no Peter, we're not trying it tonight. I'm going to crawl into bed and wake up at the ass-crack of dawn so I can get on a plane to convene with all those nice, wonderful mathematicians, remember?”

Peter sighed. “Spoilsport.”

Seriously, Stiles wondered, how did they work? A round of 'good nights' erupted as Peter, Lydia, Scott, Kira, and Isaac all left. Leaving him and Derek in the living room.

Which was nice, Stiles could sprawl to his heart’s content, and not worry about annoying anyone. Derek was far too chill over those sorts of things these days, and also had the useful habit of managing to fit in the rest of the space that Stiles didn’t fill—despite the fact that Derek really shouldn’t be able to. “So,” Stiles drew it out. “Trial period with the kids…” Lydia was leaving, but so too was Peter, to do some sort of werewolf politics thing—and probably to start campaigning for Lydia now that the idea’d been given to him—leaving him and Derek with their two kids.

Stiles would like to hope it could be a _real_ trial period, since he and Derek had chatted off and on about adoption. Derek gave a snort. “Subtle.”

“Really? We’ve been together how long now and you’re still judging me? That hurts, right here.” He managed to put his hand over his heart. Honestly, they’d known each other for nearly a decade now, half of that dating, clearly Derek knew what an unsubtle little shit Stiles was.

Derek laughed softly. “Want me to kiss it better?” Ooo, nice save.

Stiles had to legitimately debate on whether to say yes or no, on the one hand he knew it’d lead to other things and doing it right here was clearly not the best idea considering there’d be two six year olds swarming them in the morning—then again they were werewolves, so you know, not much for caring about nudity—on the other hand Derek being spur of the moment was never something to refuse.

“How about you drag me to our man cave and kiss it better there?” Seemed like a good compromise.

Derek’s eyes flashed red and he grinned.


End file.
